


Long gone

by Shirohime



Category: Original Work
Genre: Agoraphobia, Angels, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Mental Regression, Self Isolation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 08:14:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12836991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shirohime/pseuds/Shirohime
Summary: Sometimes you fall so deep for so long that you can't recall happiness





	Long gone

**Author's Note:**

> This is completely surreal and impossible but I am desperate as this is basically my life.  
> I just want the chance of there to have some... Being that will make it all OK.   
> This is my heart bleeding in desperation and should not be taken seriously.   
> If you have criticism that isn't about grammar or misspellings than please refrain from commenting it. This is me and it's hard yet so easy to share.

Green eyes clouded with gray follow raindrops slide down the window.

It's thundering and stormy outside. Has been for nearly a day now. 

I don't talk to anyone, nobody talks to me so I don't know why or when it might die down. 

Watching raindrops slide down the glass is as exciting to me as roller-coaster rides are for normal people.

You never know what path the drop will take, if it'll join another or split in two and if it will even reach the bottom at any point. 

It's calming, watching the rain.

Looking past the glass there's trees and an old swing being shaken by the storm. 

A long time ago I would sit outside and let the rain drench me, purify me before my shivering body would force me back inside under a hot shower. 

That was years ago. 

I barely remember the feeling of rain on my skin and for a second I think about opening the window to sate my curiosity. 

I don't do it though. 

Panic, familiar and so painful still, coils in my gut. It drenches out every positive feeling, leaving only terror behind to a point where it's hard to breathe.

Whimpering I get up, nails pressing painfully into my palms as I pace around the room, eyes locked on the old wooden floor. 

Guess that was enough thinking about the past for me today. 

When it gets easier to breathe and the fear is replaced with exhaustion I pull out extra blankets, building some sort of nest on my bed. 

Weirdly enough, I've always found blankets calming to a point where I went to get the mail wrapped up in one like a walking burrito because then the whole situation was easier to cope with. 

Warm engulfs shivering pale limbs as I curl up beneath one blanket and take a deep breath. 

My kneecaps hurt, laying in top of each other, but I spent my last money on items to fix the toilet so eating is not even an option. 

They tried admitting me. More than once. But it only ever gets worse. Partially because I am too frightened to let go and give it a chance. I know that. 

I know that it's my fault I keep getting worse. 

I know it's my fault my family has ignored me completely for the past 3 years. 

I know it's my fault and that's OK. 

It means I have something to think about, something that doesn't involve being angry at another person. 

This old cabin I'm living at, only has two rooms. I bought it with all of my saved money 4 years ago when I couldn't deal with being hated on anymore. 

It doesn't have hot water or a kitchen but adapting to that wasn't too bad. 

It keeps the wind out and my fears inside. 

Most of the walls are packed and hidden behind mountains of books in makeshift shelves, not in any particular order yet I know where each one is. 

My bed is about to break apart, an old relic from my childhood that I refuse to give up on. It's just wood and pretty sturdy so no point in hacking it into firewood.

Looking at how small and comfortable the room is does help me calm down. 

My muscles ache when the tension leaves them and I listen to the rain outside. 

Sometimes I think I'd be brave enough to invite someone but in less than a second that thought is crashed by overwhelming panic. 

I've given up on society a long time ago. 

Last year I still had money to pay for electricity but that changed as well. So mobile phones or laptops just don't make any sense anymore.

What I kept however is an old Walkman, running on batteries that I ask for via letters on the door. 

Once a month someone comes up here to leave soup and other food that lasts long as well as water bottles. 

I never am brave enough to see who it is, scared to be faced with panic in that moment. 

On my request (which I only ever leave for batteries), the mysterious person brings me them, keeping soft music from long ago flowing in my little home. 

I haven't used my voice in so long, I'm unable to remember what it sounds like. 

Closing my eyes to the sound of the storm raging outside I slowly drift off. 

+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+

A soft humming wakes me up, something heavy surrounding me like the best blanket ever and I find myself giving into it, not panicking to my own surprise. 

The music seems to caress my very soul, keeping the panic away and my brain sleepy and content. 

Mentally I sob and break down at how good it feels to not be hurting, to not be tense 24/7.

I don't want to open my eyes and nobody asks me to. 

The voice just keeps singing softly, breaking away my fear and putting me back together like a jigsaw puzzle. 

It keeps going on, healing me but not erasing my fears, an eternity of _safe._

Nothing changes except for me feeling like I'm melting slowly for a long while.

Time skips, my memory getting hazy and I don't remember much of what's happening from then on. 

I just know that there's no pain. 

Not ever. 

Not when he stretches my soul back into its full height. 

Not when he coaxes out painful memories. 

I don't know who he is.

But it doesn't matter. 

He's there, for forever. 

He won't leave and as much as that would have frightened me before it soothes me now. 

He doesn't ever ask anything of me, knows when I can respond and when I can't. 

And I never have to open my eyes again. 

It's eternal, that much I know. 

It should be scary. 

But it's not when your soul mate is right there with you through it all. 


End file.
